In his delight at this letter, and notwithstanding the doubtful tenour of Maltby’s instructions, Essex sought a reconciliation with Fitzwilliam. Both professed to bear no personal resentment, and to have quarrelled only on public grounds, but others could see that their animosity was of long standing and proportionately difficult to appease. The Earl was sanguine that now at last he was on the high road to success. ‘I would not,’ he confessed, ‘blame the Queen if she were weary of Ireland ... it is certain her Highness has spent 600,000l. in her time here and the realm never the better; but, trust me, sir, reformation was never thoroughly intended until now, as I think.’ Full of hope he set forward towards the Blackwater, having already employed 600 labourers to cut passes through the woods bordering on Tyrone, where the people, since his devastating raid in the previous autumn, had been living altogether on flesh. ‘They have been occupied with raids and incursions this sowing time, and their next harvest shall be by all likelihood twice as urgent, and therefore it is certain that they must either starve or obey very shortly.’[297]
The Queen again changes her mind.
When Essex started once more for the North, Maltby was able to say that he and the Deputy were very good friends, and that the country generally was pretty quiet, ‘but for the ordinary uncertainty of the Irish, quod natura dedit.’ The Scots had gone home, and Tirlogh Luineach, who saw that mischief was intended, sent his wife to Newry to sue for peace. She held out for the old rights of O’Neill, but offered to pay a ‘tribute,’ in consideration of his superiority over Maguire and MacMahon being acknowledged by the Crown. Ten days were given to Tirlogh to consider the matter further, and Essex withdrew to Drogheda, where he received a letter from the Queen which put an end to all his hopes. She allowed that he might well be surprised at this ‘sudden change, but that she had no meaning that he should proceed in the service, otherwise than we thought it necessary for a time, in respect of the danger he had laid before her of a general revolt.’ The political horizon was troubled, and on full consideration she had made up her mind that the Ulster project could not be made to pay, and must be abandoned. ‘Direct the course of proceeding,’ she said, ‘in such sort as the enterprise may yet be so given over as our honour may best be salved’ and the quiet of Ireland provided for. How all this might best be done was referred to the discretion of Essex, who was to consult the Lord Deputy and Council. Tirlogh Luineach was to be made, if possible, to relinquish his claim to the Urraghs, to content himself with the modern county of Tyrone, and to join in expelling the Scots. A fort at the Blackwater would be most desirable, if it could be built cheaply with the help of those who would be protected by it from O’Neill’s tyranny.[298]
The Essex scheme is abandoned. Fort at Blackwater.
Essex bowed loyally to her Majesty’s will, spoke much of her good-nature and little of his own disappointment, and only begged that she would have some regard for his ruined fortunes. But he gently reproached the Privy Council with unkindness for not warning him before he spent his substance and his health ‘in an action which, as it now appears, was never intended to be performed.’ With a heavy heart he set out for the Blackwater, and began building a fort there. Tirlogh Luineach, who had 1,900 of his own followers and 1,400 Scots with him, sent to say that he was ready to make peace and to abjure Sorley Boy and his Scots, if the building operations were suspended. Essex consenting to a parley, Tirlogh supposed that he had gained his point, and insisted on Sorley being a party. ‘This storm is over,’ he said to his Scotch ally, ‘and the Earl shall neither build nor make war.’ Finding that the work went on, he proposed to attack before the defences should be tenable, but Sorley refused, saying that good watch was kept at night, and that he would only fight if Tyrone were invaded. The O’Neills had no mind to do all themselves, and Tirlogh, supported neither by clansmen nor auxiliaries, said that he would trust the English. Essex crossed the river, cut off 1,200 kine, and drove O’Neill into the bogs, following him so close that he had to leave his horse and his mantle behind. A bridge with stone piers and timber superstructure was finished, earthen bridge-heads were thrown up, and an entrenched enclosure constructed to hold 200 men and tenable by fifty; the Baron of Dungannon agreeing to find victuals for the latter number. Essex had perhaps no great skill as an engineer; for Sidney visited the fort four months later and found it ‘imperfect, not worth the charge of the keeping if there be peaceable proceeding; the bridge and gate to guard it not half reared.’[299]
Advice of Waterhouse. Profit versus honour.
Tirlogh having sued for peace, Essex was now in a position to make it on such tolerable terms as might ‘salve the Queen’s honour,’ his principle being to acknowledge none of the O’Neill claims, but to wink at their practical assertion. Tirlogh agreed to confine himself in general to Tyrone, to give up his claim to superiority over his neighbours, to keep the peace towards O’Donnell and other subjects of the Queen, and to furnish his contingent to all hostings. On the other hand, he was excused from coming to any governor against his will, was to have a share in the customs of Lough Foyle, and might have 300 Scots in pay, provided they belonged to the Campbell and not to the MacDonnell connection. His claim to tribute from O’Dogherty would be acknowledged whenever he could prove his title. These terms were considered reasonable by so good a judge as Maltby, but Fitzwilliam had lately taken the precaution to inform the Queen that Tirlogh Luineach might easily be dealt with without any of the fuss which Essex thought proper to make about the matter. The Deputy had seen so much of Ireland, that he had ceased to have any very high standard. Waterhouse, the devoted partisan of Essex, also thought it possible to save the point of honour, and to avoid war by a composition with the Irish; but he did not deceive himself about the real nature of a peace so made. ‘All this,’ he said, ‘will be but patches, and (according to your country proverb) "make much work for the tinker." If this plot which here hath good allowance and there is thought probable take not place, nor some better form of reformation devised, then it were good to persuade that all soldiers were cassed, and leave here in Dublin some bad justice for a shadow of her Majesty’s possession: and let all go as it will to the devil, and never let it suck up the riches of England to be vainly spent to no purpose. So would it come to pass that within two or three years there would be twenty kings, and every one consume other in continual murders, which tragedy were far better than the remedies that have been practised here these one hundred years past. You may take this for a Christmas game, but if profit be preferred before honour, then there may be somewhat said in this behalf.’[300]
No open rebellion.
While the English Government played fast and loose with the Ulster expedition, it was possible to report that no open rebellion existed in any part of Ireland, and that the doubtful were, as a rule, bound on pledges. But burning and spoiling in a small way went on merrily. The high universally oppressed the low, and ‘some were hanged or killed here and there every day.’ Still, as a rule, it was not necessary to keep watch, and cattle, at least in the Pale, could generally be left out at night. Rumours reached Ireland that Sidney had been finding fault, but Fitzwilliam asserted that Ireland was in a better state than when the late Lord Deputy left it.[301]
Want of money. Jobbery among lawyers.